Where I Belong
by Wolvertique
Summary: Two months after the story Despair, Mystique is healing in the X-mansion. What will they do with her? What does she want to do?
1. Games XMen Play

Note: This is a companion piece to my previous story, "Despair," and takes place approximately two months after it. Mystique is slowly recovering from her malnutrition, numerous infections, and anemia. But what will the X-men do with her? Accept her? Reject her? Will the team split again over her? And what will her "family," Rogue and Kurt, do then? Read on…

Rogue danced through the falling leaves, flying around the trees, and Gambit chased her. "Come on back, chere. We got things to talk about."

She landed on a tree stump and pretended to pout. "I don't know if I want to," she teased.

He dropped to the ground beside her and laid back, looking up at the leaves. "Ol' Mystique's doin' better. It's about time we answer Beast's question. What we gonna do wit' her?"

She sighed. "I don't know, Remy," she said, defeated. "I love her, and I want to have her stay with me, but I don't know if that's possible. I don't think she could join the X-men, and I don't want to leave them."

"Whatever you want, chere, Remy'll do," he responded. "You want her here, Gambit beat up anyone who say she can't stay with you."

She looked down into his burning eyes. "Remy, what do you think about her? What do you think we should do?"

He sat up and swept a leaf out of the air into his hand and looked at it for a moment. "Whatever you want's fine with Gambit."

"That's not what I asked. I asked what you think about her." She moved to the ground and tilted his chin up, locking gazes with him.

"You don't want easy answers, do you, chere?" He thought for a moment, then spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. "I think three things. One is, I'm a criminal too, chere. Maybe not as bad as Mystique …"

"Definitely not," Rogue agreed, eyes shining into his.

He stopped for a moment, smiling, and then continued, "… but still a thief. Maybe havin' another criminal around is okay." He extended two fingers. "You love her, she loves you. Gambit love you. Gambit support you. Gambit think people who love you got good taste. Gambit support them."

"You sure?" Rogue reached out to take his hand, and he preened a little.

"These pretty eyes of Gambit's aren't just so he look good, chere. They're so he can see things." He winked, and she rolled her own at his cockiness. He then said, "Three. Mystique decided ol' Gambit hate her, not give her a fair chance. Gambit see that as a challenge." He grinned. "Give her every chance I got, I will."

"Well." Rogue leaned back against him and looked up at the trees. "Maybe we should talk to Kurt later about it too."

"Sure." Gambit held her and tossed the leaf onto her chest. "Tonight. Her room. Till then …"

Gambit's eyes gleamed, and Rogue felt a pleasant flutter of anticipation in her stomach. "Remy, what are you doin'?"

"You go on running like before, chere. Then you find out." He rose to his feet, eyes still alight with mischief and something deeper. She broke and ran, but she made sure not to fly this time. He pursued her through the falling leaves and maple trees, laughing in joyous anticipation.


	2. A Wicked Game of Cards

"Would you have called me Kurt?" His tail lashed as he sat by my bed. We were playing Crazy Eights again. It was almost a tradition.

"No." I looked at my cards and played the King of Clubs.

"What would my name have been?" He tossed the King of Hearts on the pile. I frowned at him.

"Did you have to change suits?" I picked through my hand.

"Don't change the subject, mother." He put his hand over my cards and smiled. "Tell me. What was the name you gave me?"

I looked away, and he caught my other hand in both of his. I gave a reluctant smile. "You think you can get away with anything if you do that, do you not?" He grinned and nodded. I gave up, put the cards down, and continued. "Very well. Your father and I thought you should be named for him, but after he … left us, I did not want to call you by his name. So I called you Michael, after my grandfather, Michel."

"Tell me a story about my great-grandmother." He crossed his legs and got ready to listen.

I tucked the sheets around my chest and nodded. "I remember she and I once were having a meal together. She had some tasty smoked sausages on the table. She asked me if I was done eating, and when I said no, she asked what I would like. I told her that another of the smaller, seared sausages would be good. She asked, 'Oh, you mean like this one?' as she took one I wanted off the serving plate and ate it."

Kurt laughed. "She really did?"

I smiled. "Yes."

"What else did she do?" Kurt asked eagerly.

"You have already heard most of my stories about her, you know," I said gently.

"Not all of them, though." His eyes pleaded with me.

"This is unfair." I idly picked at the cards, and Kurt took them from me.

"No more cards now, ja? Tell me, mother."

I looked down at the sheets again. I had to gather my courage to tell this story. After a minute or two, I began a new one. "I never told you what she did when my parents threw me out of the house for being a mutant, did I? I went to her house across town, walking. Running. My dress got wet and muddy from the walk. She came to the door herself. She almost never did that. She let me in. I started to tell her what happened but she shushed me, opened her arms, and said, 'Karla and Gunter are fools. Come to me, my Raven.' She hated getting dirty, too, but she said nothing as I threw myself into her arms, nothing but that she loved me."

I bit my lip, trying to hold back the tears again. Kurt asked, "What happened next?"

"She gave me tea and toast, told me to calm down, and said again that my parents were fools. She said we would do all right without them. Then she caught influenza about three months later and died." My jaw set as I saw her, coughing and weak near the end, and I turned back to my son with an effort. A muscle in my cheek twitched. "No more today, Kurt. I am tired."

"All right." He gathered the cards together, then gave a mischievous smile. "By the way, I saw Logan leaving your room earlier."

I was confused and a little annoyed by his comment. "So?"

"Do you need a chaperone, or will you be all right alone with him?" he teased.

Now, I was very annoyed. It was no business … it was … "He is nothing to me!" I said fiercely. "He was just … he just wanted to know if I was all right."

"Mother?" Now Kurt was confused. He pulled back from me and looked down at me soberly. "He wasn't bothering you, was he?"

I made a visible effort and calmed down. "No, no. No more than usual, anyhow," I corrected myself, crossing my arms.

He grinned. "No more than I do, I hope."

I raised an eyebrow. "Go." As he closed the door, I remembered to say it. "Thank you for coming. And playing." He smiled and left me then.

I held my pose for a few seconds, then relaxed and let a long breath out. He had believed me. Thank goodness. I did not want anyone to know how very much Logan disturbed me now, and in what ways. I did not want to be the subject of even more gossip, furthermore. And most of all, I did not want anyone to know that he had been coming to see me almost daily over the past few weeks, or how much I looked forward to his visits.


	3. Elf vs Wolf

I stretched and yawned, watching Banshee negotiate the Danger Room. He did okay with his first attempt. When he was through, I called to Storm, who entered and began her session.

I was bored. I hated Danger Room monitor duty. Fighting when it isn't real, with lives at stake and something to win at the end, doesn't interest me. The smells, the sensations, the exertion are what make real fighting fun. The kids at the school don't understand that at all and keep trying to drag me to action movies. I've seen more car chases and explosions than I want to in real life. Why the hell would I want to see some actor pretending to fight?

A scent of brimstone, a soft "bamf" of displaced air, and Kurt was in the monitoring station with me. I nodded to the elf but kept my eyes on Storm.

"Logan?" Kurt approached me and took a seat next to mine.

"Was when I woke up this mornin.'" Storm dispatched the Marauders easily, and I gestured to Northstar.

"Did you do something to upset Mother when you saw her earlier?" Interesting. How'd the furry misfit find out I was seeing her at all?

I kept my eyes on Jean-Paul and gave him my usual brief reply. "Why? She say somethin'?" If she hadn't by now, she probably wouldn't, but you never know. Northstar easily made his way through the room, and it was now Iceman's turn. I waved him in and turned my head so I could keep track of him and Kurt as we talked.

"Not exactly." He paused. "I saw you leaving her room this morning. Why did you see her at all? What did you say to her? Did anything strange happen?"

"Kurt, why don't you come right out and say what you're thinking?" I growled impatiently. "Do you think I'm beatin' on Mystique or something?" The kid sounded really worried. What the hell was he thinking?

Kurt breathed out once. "Mein freund, I was worried. She reacted very strongly when I mentioned I'd seen you, so I thought she maybe got upset by something you said."

I shrugged, playing it cool. "No more than usual, anyhow. I am not exactly a calming influence, elf."

"Could you do your best to make sure you don't disturb her too much? She's been through a lot, you know." He got up from his chair, sounding relieved.

Silence. I thought about some of the things she'd told me, remembered that tortured scream from the tub of ice. Bobby finished with an elaborate bow, and Angel waited for my signal. "Yeah. She sure has." I shook my head and beckoned, and Angel entered the Danger Room. Kurt bowed and teleported out.

He musta been downwind this morning. I hadn't noticed him at all. Guess I need to be more careful when I visit her now, don't I? 

I shook my head and turned my full attention to Angel.

*********************

Kurt left. He did feel somewhat better. But the visit left him with a nagging feeling that Logan had done or said something that should be bothering him. He made a mental note to check on Mystique later tonight, and to go over that conversation he just had with Logan before going to sleep.


	4. Mail Call

I opened my eyes after my nap and gasped. Logan was sitting next to me, holding a box and a card in his lap. He nodded as I relaxed. "Mail call," he said.

"Who wrote today?" I asked. I had been surprised at how many people seemed to care about my condition. I had a small stack of get-well cards from the President, members of the Brotherhood, Magneto, and even the criminal Arcade, who hoped we could do business again soon. (I found it unlikely. But I kept the card.)

He shrugged. "Got a postcard from Greece from Petros and a package from True Love Publications."

I took Avalanche's card first. He had gone to Greece for a brief visit, but was planning to come back to the States some time in the next two weeks. He might try to visit me. I could not keep a smile from my face at the idea.

Logan interrupted my thoughts. "Did you order this?" He waved the box. "Doesn't seem your kinda deal."

I smiled. "It is not. It is, however, St. John's 'deal.'"

He stared at me.

"Pyro."

He remained stoic for a moment, then gave a snort of laughter. "The fire guy. A flippin' romantic." He put the box gently in my lap and I took it eagerly.

"It gets worse," I warned him. "He writes himself into every story."

"You're kiddin.'" He leaned over me, and I moved closer to him, so we were nearly touching. I held my breath for a second, then released it and opened the box.

"Give me a moment. I will show you." The lurid cover, showing the standard Gothic castle in the background and the standard female/male duo in the foreground, gave no hint where I might find...ah. Here we were.

I pointed to page 62. "Read that paragraph."

He leaned in and stretched his arm out behind me. I forced my body to relax against it, warm and solid, as he read. "St. Germain, huh?" He left his arm behind me and tapped the page with his right hand.

Breathe. Just breathe. "Yes. He is part of every tale St. John spins."

"Ah." Logan gave another brief laugh, and I joined him.

The door opened, and my children came in. Gambit followed. They all stopped as they saw us, and I clutched the book in my left hand.

"Mother?" "Mama?" Rogue looked stunned, and Kurt suspicious, especially of Logan. 

Logan's arm tensed behind me, but his voice was its usual gruff self. "So I'm not important, eh?"

Gambit looked amused, standing behind my children, and gave Logan a brief salute. "Ami."

Logan slowly stood and stretched. "Well. Guess I'll leave you guys alone for now." He bent and closed the book in my left hand, stroking the backs of my fingers. "I'll be back later," he said to me.

He tipped a wave to Gambit and then left.

I put the book on the table by my bed and looked at my stunned children. Kurt recovered first. "Mother? What is this?"

I drew my old confidence around me like a cloak. "Pyro sent me his latest effort. I have not yet had a chance to read it."

My son's face was torn between anger and amusement. Gambit coughed, hiding his mouth, and stayed by the door. Rogue approached my bed. "Mama, you're not ... he's not ... are you?"

I kept my face neutral. "You will have to do better than that, Rogue."

Kurt came up on my other side. "He is bothering you, isn't he, mother?"

I blinked. "Did I look bothered?" I was not pleased by this development, but I was not going to let my son get a wrong impression.

My son withdrew a step or two. "Mein Gott ... " he whispered. Rogue looked worried.

"Mama, you aren't thinking about Logan like that, are you?" Gambit started coughing again, and I drew myself erect.

"Whether I am or not, it is absolutely none of your business, whether as X-men or my children. I am an adult. I will do as I please, and none will stop me." I held a hand up to stop any further outbursts. "Now, I presume you did not come here to interrogate me about Logan. Why are you here?"

Kurt sat and frowned. Rogue pulled up a chair and sat as well, and Gambit arranged himself loosely over the chair Logan had used. I raised an eyebrow at him. He took a deck of cards from his pocket. "Not my show, Mystique."

Rogue swallowed. "Well, Mama," she began, "we were gonna ask if you'd thought more about what you were gonna do. You're gettin' a lot better. Dr. McCoy says you're almost ready for physical therapy."

"Yes," I replied. "Next week, if the professor says it's all right after he invades ... examines my mind." The anger welled up in my soul again. I did not want anyone but me in my mind, and I hated being intelligent enough to realize that it had to happen for the X-men to trust me enough to let me begin the real healing process.

Rogue took my hand. Kurt hung back, a slight frown on his face. She brushed some hair away from my cheek. "It won't be so bad, mama. He did it when I first came here. He's gentle."

I tried to smile, but failed. "Gentle rape is still rape, Rogue." I touched her glove with just enough pressure that she could feel the warmth of my hand. "I understand the rationale, but I do not like it."

"I will be there, if you like," my son said quietly, not looking up, that gentle face now unmarred by anger.

I wished he would look at me. "I would like that. Thank you." Thanks still did not come easily to me.

Gambit cocked his head. "So. What you gonna do, Mystique?" Rogue and Kurt looked at him, and then turned to me.

"I do not know," I said cautiously. "I have given this matter some thought in the middle of the night. I know there is no way I could join you here. I have far too much ... negative history with you." I paused to organize my thoughts. "I do not want to return to terrorism, either. That has never worked, for me or for Magneto. I recognize now that the violent approach has done nothing but get me in trouble."

I put my hands to my face and sighed. I took Rogue's hand again, and Kurt offered me his. I grasped it firmly and continued. "I am not certain what else to do. I would not like to work for the government again. It is too restrictive, too confining. I do know I should not like to work directly for anyone else. I wish to order my own affairs again."

My children were silent, and so was Gambit, though he looked at me speculatively. Rogue squeezed my hand and brushed a brief kiss near my cheek. "Maybe we should go and think more about this, mama, now that we know what you want."

I nodded. Gambit put his cards away and rose as Rogue did. "Kurt?" she asked, and my son moved closer to me, scraping his chair across the floor.

"I will be along shortly, my sister," he said quietly. His hand left mine, and his gaze swept the room before returning to my face.

"Go on, Rogue. The elf and I will be fine." Kurt flinched, and his eyes widened. Rogue and Gambit left as well, after a double take from Rogue.

He muttered under his breath, "You too, and he ... Mother, how long has he been coming to see you?"

"That, my son, is absolutely none of your business." I crossed my arms and looked directly at him, challenging him.

He frowned and pulled close to me, searching my face. "It must be for some time. Otherwise, you would not be speaking like each other."

I stalled for time, searching my memory. What had I said? "I do not speak like Logan. His speech is far less dignified."

Kurt leaned in, concern and exasperation at war in his voice. "You called me elf. You never call me elf! But he does. He said something earlier without using a contraction. You never use contractions." He spread his hands wide. "How long has this been going on?"

I gazed at him and gently touched his chin. "I will not tell you." He frowned again, and I held his head where it was when he would have looked away. "I will, however, assure you of three things. First, Logan has done nothing to delay my recovery. Second, we are both adults and can take care of ourselves. Finally, whether I am with Logan or St. John or the President himself, or if I am without a relationship, I always, always love you."

He watched me anxiously as I spoke, and then bent over to hug me. I held him tight, stroking his hair, and he remained close for several minutes.

When he disengaged, he still looked worried, but all he said was, "I hope he knows you still have a long way to go with your recovery, and will not keep you up all night, Mother. Guten nacht."

He left me alone, and I picked up Flames of the Riviera. Pyro's efforts were, at least, slightly better than the other books in this genre. The book should give my mind the rest it badly needed after this strange day.


	5. Afterwords

I waited outside the med lab, thinking. There was a lot to think about, too. Those weird questions of Nightcrawler's this morning. Mystique. Gambit. Mystique. Rogue. And Mystique again.

Well, I had to start with Mystique. She made everything strange by just being here to begin with. I ended up feeling sorry for her, especially after that day I saved her life by noticing her fever needed to be reduced. Then, too, I felt a little guilty about laughing when she had her fever dreams. Damn Rogue anyway.

Hey. I have a conscience.

So when I got a chance, I went to apologize and Kurt had to tell me even more about what she'd suffered. She woke up, of course. But I came to apologize, so I was gonna do it anyway. I don't back down from doin' what I promise.

I just kept goin' back to see her, first just a couple of times, then pretty regular. It felt different, but right. We'd laugh and talk about all sorts of things. I never expected to, but I felt more relaxed around her. Better. My instincts told me it was right to be with her. I found myself thinking about her at odd times during the day, too.

Then the elf had to ask what was going on. I felt kinda uneasy, because I realized afterward I didn't really know. The way I felt was just the way I felt, nothin' more. And as for what was going on in Mystique's blue head, I don't think anyone knows.

I didn't bother staying after the kids found us together. They weren't paying any attention to me, anyhow, other than Gambit, who seemed to find us amusing.

Huh. I guess we kinda are, at that.

Speak of the devil. Remy and Rogue came down the hall toward me, holding hands. Cute. They both noticed me this time. The Cajun's eyes shone with amusement, and Rogue just looked worried. He greeted me and she stopped, dropping his hand. "Chere?" he asked.

She smiled a little. "Go on. I'll catch up later." He shrugged, turned, and walked off whistling. Cocky bastard.

What? There's nothing wrong with being a cocky bastard.

I lit a cigar, and her nose wrinkled, but she didn't say anything about it. "Logan?"

I waited. She didn't say anything, just stared at me. "What?" I growled, finally. I've never been patient with people who can't be direct with me about what they want.

She licked her lips. "I love her. You know that." I nodded. She continued. "You've been a good friend, too. I just … I worry about her. She's been through so much these past months, and …"

Great. She really thinks I do torture puppies. "Look, kid. I'm only gonna tell you this once. I'm not out to hurt Mystique. All things considered, she really is not so bad. Okay? Plus, while I ain't a doctor, I know she's not up to playing ping-pong yet. I wouldn't ask her to until someone who is says she is. Got it?"

She blushed a little and looked embarrassed as I talked, then threw herself against my body. Luckily, I caught myself on the wall, so I didn't fall over backward, and put my arms around her briefly. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I've just been worried for so long."

"I know, darlin'. I know. That's why you're not splattered against the wall." I mock-growled and shook my fist. She giggled.

Of course, that had to be the first thing the elf saw when he came down the hall, and he tensed up. "What are you doing now, Wolverine?" He sounded really pissed. I snorted. Great. Just what I need, more misunderstanding.

Rogue giggled again. "Oh, back off, Kurt. We were just havin' a little fun, sugar." She walked away, and the elf approached me, but stayed out of claw range.

"Wolverine?" He watched me warily. He was in a standard combat stance, well-balanced, ready for action. I took a good puff from my cigar and then put it out. No point keeping it lit now.

"Nightcrawler?" He was the one picking this fight. Let him do the talking.

"What do you intend to do with my mother?" Trust Kurt to go with the bad movie dialogue when the chips were down. I decided to answer his question as if he'd been serious.

"Nothin'." What? It was true. I had no intentions, because right now I had no plans and I had no idea what the hell Mystique wanted, either.

"That's not what I saw in there." He started moving to one side, testing my defenses. I let him. I knew he couldn't take me unarmed. Even armed he'd have problems. How many times had we gone on "hunting parties" together? And how many cases of beer did he still owe me from the times he'd lost?

"Really." I put my cigar butt in my shirt pocket. "Then why don't you tell me, elf, seein' as you're the one pretending to be the telepath here."

Fury flashed across his face, and he was three inches from me, grabbing my shirt collar. "Stay away from my mother, Wolverine. She does not need to be hurt by you, and I won't let you toy with her."

I breathed out slowly and decided to challenge him a little. "What if it's not a game, Nightcrawler?"

Surprised, he released my shirt and backed up a step. I watched him. Certainty replaced doubt, and he sneered, "It must be. You do not truly care for her."

I pushed it another step. "Do I care about Jubilee?" He blinked and frowned suspiciously. Another step. "Do I care for Kitty?" He was slowly getting it, but I kicked it up a notch. "Did I care for Jean?"

He wasn't looking at me now. Puzzled and worried, he tensed and relaxed, thinking. "But you can't. She's … Mystique. She's my mother."

I coughed so I wouldn't laugh. "Elf, believe it or not, being a mother doesn't rule anyone out. Now, I'm not sayin' anything more. Good night." I moved past him, and he grabbed my arm.

"Logan?" His eyes searched my face. I stopped and looked at him. His hand dropped to his side, and his shoulders relaxed, but he didn't look happy. "Be careful."

"Always." I headed to Mystique's room, and this time he let me. What if it wasn't a game? Turning the knob, I realized that it wasn't any more, if it ever had been.


	6. Served Cold

I opened the door quietly. Mystique was asleep, her hand holding Pyro's book against the covers. I walked over and took it from her, putting it on the table next to her bed. The metal cuff pulled her hand down to the bed, and she made a sound in protest. I turned to look at her. She said, clearly, "Never did before."

I sat in the chair next to her bed. "Never did what?"

She muttered something I couldn't make out. Great. She talks in her sleep, too, in addition to having a trigger-happy son and being a terrorist ... what the hell am I thinking, coming up with the crazy idea that we could work something out together?

"Logan." A curl of red hair lay against her cheek. I pushed it back. It was soft.

"Yeah?" I pulled my hand back. Let's see if she can respond to people in her sleep, too.

"I think maybe ... irritating. Angry. Pushy." Like I didn't know any of that. Heck, she was describing some of my better traits.

"So?"

She twitched a little. "Do not hate him, though. Never really did."

"So how do you feel about Logan?" I asked. This was ridiculous. It was entertaining, though. Like I said before, whether feverish or asleep, Mystique could play the Palace. And hey, free insight into Mystique don't come along every day.

"Mm. Like. A lot." My chest felt lighter. Had I stopped breathing or something? Aw, crap. I was really done for.

"Closer." Her right index finger beckoned. I bent down to hear what she had to say next. She whispered, "You can pretend I was asleep in the morning, but you and I both know I am awake."

I could have slugged her. Her yellow eyes opened wide, and sure enough, Mystique was awake and in as much of a right mind as she ever had. "All that just to get me back, huh?" She was laughing now, and she nodded as she did.

"You cannot ... just tease ... Mystique," she gasped between gales of laughter. I didn't want to, but her laughter sparked mine, and I let go, too. We kept going for about five minutes, and then we finally calmed down.

"Bet you can guess my next question." I wiped the tears from my eyes as I waited.

"I prefer having you tell me, Logan. It makes things much easier when I do not have to pretend to be a telepath." She patted the side of the bed. "And come here. It hurts my neck to have you sit there."

I raised one eyebrow, but didn't make the obvious joke. "How much of it was fake, to get me back, and how much was real?"

She looked down at the covers, like she always did when she had something hard to say. I moved to her side and tilted her head up so I could see her eyes. She stopped trying to hide and pulled that old Mystique defiance out. "I do like you. I just decided to teach you a lesson. And I do not care what you think about me."

She was good. Real good. But she couldn't change her scent, and there was fear underneath her brave words as she said she didn't care what I thought. Sure she doesn't care. And Kurt isn't blue.

I leaned closer to her and whispered, "I'll be honest with you if you're honest with me, Mystique. Now, tell it straight."

Anger, suspicion, and then reluctant agreement crossed her face in quick succession. She frowned at me and fiercely said, "Fine. I like you a lot. Maybe more. I am not certain. I do want you to like me. And you smell of cheap tobacco. It is irritating my nose."

I laughed again. That was Mystique for ya. "Tough. Insulting. Overly proud. Annoying."

She rolled her eyes. "I suppose I might deserve that."

"Interesting. Fun. Likeable. Maybe even lovable, darlin'. But pushy."

She smiled, eyes shining, and then shook her head. "Logan. Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?"

I snorted. "Nope."

"Then come here." I leaned in close, and she pulled me in for a surprisingly gentle, intimate kiss. "You do talk too much."

"Maybe," I said, clearing my throat and stretching out next to her as she yawned. "How'd your session with the elf and the others go?"

She took my hand. "I told them it was none of their business if I chose to be with Sasquatch."

"Oh, thanks," I grumbled. "Next thing, you'll tell me you want me to dye my hair orange."

She yawned again. "I am tired. Would you stay with me as I sleep?"

"You really want me to? Remember, I'm irritating." I stayed where I was.

"I have been having nightmares," she replied. "I believe having you nearby to combat them would be a good thing."

I did my best to ignore her strong scent of desire as she pulled the covers up over me. "I'm not an easy sleeper myself ... all right. Here." I moved the pillows and cushioned her head on my chest. She sighed and snuggled up to me.

What was I getting myself into? I must be a glutton for punishment. I closed my eyes and waited for morning.


	7. More Complications

He watched her as she came to bed, wearing the bodysuit Jean had designed for her. It was silky and sheer, made of the same unstable molecules as their uniforms, but it looked better on her than any old uniform. She was covered from toes to throat in shiny black, and he held his arms wide.

She curled up to him in their usual position, her head against his chest, his arms cradling her in his long-sleeved shirt and gloves. He began gently stroking her, and she let him for a few shivery hot moments before she looked up. "Remy? Can ... can you stop for a little bit? We need to talk."

He sighed, but his hands stopped moving on her body. "Oui, chere." His voice had deepened, and his breathing was as uneven as hers.

She cuddled into him, and he embraced her again. "Do you remember that night a couple months ago, when we thought Mama was dying?"

His chuckle rumbled through her body. "How can Gambit forget a beautiful lady throwing herself at him?"

She blushed. She had been desperate for comfort, eager for touch, though it had to be through one of her bodysuits, and thus was even more aggressive than normal. "Uh ... then you probably remember that ... um ... it broke, that last time?"

His arms tightened around her. "Oui," he murmured reluctantly.

"And ya remember that we were gonna wait and see how things turned out?" She couldn't look at him. Gambit's gloved hand tipped her head up. His anxious eyes searched her face.

"Chere, you trying to tell me you're pregnant?" His chest visibly rose and fell, and his mouth hung open. She gave a small smile.

"Well, I am six weeks late now. I should have started it for this month last week." His mouth closed, and he swallowed. He said nothing.

"I know we never talked about it much, but if I am, we need to start thinking about what to do. I guess I need to see the Professor and Beast, so we can see if my powers will hurt the baby. I hope not. Oh, and we'll need to get things, of course. I don't have anything for a child. Oh, and I gotta tell Mama, and Kurt, and all the others ..." She chattered on nervously until a gloved palm covered her mouth.

"Chere. We'll be fine. Gambit take care of you, even if there two of you." He smiled down at her. "Hey, even if there three."

"Don't even joke about that." She shook her finger at him, and he nodded.

"Okay. Nothin' but serious. Four."

"Cut that out!" She pushed at his chest playfully, and he fell backward, dramatically clutching his throat and making terrible gagging noises.

She leaned over him, and he stopped playing dead. "Seriously, are you okay with this, being a father, standing by me, all of that?"

He drew her as close to him as he could without touching her face with his. "Chere, you stood by Gambit in Antarctica, remember? You make sure he get home safe, you take him right to the professor. You get old Charles to help you so you could say you love me instead of abandoning Gambit without a word. And you nearly tear Scott a new one when he say Gambit maybe no good any more. Least I can do, chere, to stand by someone with that deep a love, hein? Most I can do is enjoy you and love you back. And," he whispered, "I do."

"Damn you, swamp rat," she whispered back. "Now I don't get to give you the beating you deserve."

The light of mischief came back to his eyes. "Chere, there other things we can do ... specially now that you're pregnant."


	8. But Will You Respect Me ?

Mm. My pillow would not move. Sleepily, I tugged at it and got a warm chuckle in my ear. "Darlin', if you keep trying to pull my ribs out, I'm gonna think you don't love me anymore."

I looked up into Logan's dark eyes. He was smiling at me. My head had been resting on his chest, and my hand was still gripping his side. I sneezed once, hard, and said, "What can I pull out instead?"

His smile turned mischievous. He patted my head. "Dear Mystique, you ain't nearly well enough for that yet."

I was debating the merits of throttling him when the door opened and Jean entered with a breakfast tray. She put it down, turned and took in the scene, with me resting comfortably against Logan and his arm around me, and asked, "Wolverine? What are you doing?"

He hugged me tightly and I waited for him to respond. "Isn't it obvious? I was sleeping with Mystique."

He struggled to keep a straight face. The shock on Jean's was priceless. She stared at him with her mouth open, then at me, then at him again. For a moment, I wished I had a camera. Then we started laughing, and she realized he was joking.

"Very funny," she muttered as she sat down on the chair next to my bed. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."

The door banged open again. "Hey, Jean, you forgot the orange juice and … Wolvie?" Jubilee stopped in the doorway, a small glass of juice in her hand, and stared at us.

Logan raised a hand casually. "Hey, kid."

Her face crumpled, and she threw the glass to the floor. It shattered. "Choke on it!" she spat out, and ran out the door. Jean followed her, quickly, and we were alone again.

"Alone at last." I separated myself from Logan and sighed. "THAT went well."

"Better'n I expected." He arose and got my tray. "The kid'll recover. Hm. You get better breakfasts than I do." He looked at me, expectant.

"I might be persuaded to share. But it would take some effort." I smiled at him.

"Hmph." He leaned over and kissed me. 

We were nearly finished with the food five minutes later when Hank McCoy entered. "Pardon me," he said politely, "but I must ask you some questions." He put a blood pressure cuff on my right arm. "Have you been engaged in any strenuous activity within the past twenty-four hours?"

Logan laughed, and I smiled. "You could come right out and ask, you know," I replied.

He frowned slightly. "I do not think it proper to inquire about intimate activities between others directly, when it must be done, but very well. Have you and Logan been having sex?"

"No." I finished my bagel.

"Not yet," Logan added. Damn the man. I shot him an annoyed glance as Dr. McCoy released the air in the blood pressure cuff. He attempted an innocent look in return.

"Good." He paused. "Must I inquire further about what, precisely, you have been doing, or are you willing to tell me on your own?"

"Sleeping, until about ten minutes ago." I stretched and rubbed my arm where the cuff had compressed it.

He sighed. "Just sleeping." We nodded. "That is not the impression which Jubilee got, and Dr. Gray was uncertain."

"We are not responsible for Jubilee's misinterpretation of events." I glared at Logan again. "One of us is responsible for Dr. Gray's, though."

Logan frowned at me. "Yeah, Mystique. You and your jokes."

I could not restrain my laughter. He was insufferable. Infuriating. But he was wonderful, too.

I suppose I will let him live.


	9. Headaches

Charles Xavier sat at his desk pushing papers around. His head ached and he wondered morosely if he did the right thing in forming the X-men.

Of course he had volunteered to care for the nearly dead Mystique. But it had brought unexpected problems. The government had an interest in her. Many other people did, too. The X-men had already repulsed three attempted invasions by friends and foes of Mystique, and he worried that a fourth was in the offing. The Hellfire Club had been too quiet lately.

Then there was the fact that she was, finally, recovering. She should have already begun physical therapy, and would have, had he the time to scan her mind first and ascertain if she were a danger. But the earliest he could manage was the Monday of next week, due to some unforeseen complications.

They had rescued fifteen mutants from a Friends of Humanity enclave in Tijuana, Mexico, and the team involved in the rescue had brought them to the mansion. That meant fifteen new people to set up either in his own organization or those of others, and none of them knew the culture or what being a mutant was really like. That took energy and resources, which were already stretched thin.

Wanda Maximoff of the Avengers had requested a team of X-men to bolster their efforts against the evil wizards tampering with the Northern Lights. He had agreed before the Tijuana mutants had come, and so he was short four more people who could have helped settle them in.

Mystique was a problem in another way. Scott had come to see him just a few days ago. "Professor," he began, "it has come to my attention that Mystique appears to be recovering."

Charles nodded. "She is, indeed."

Scott remained as rigid as a soldier at attention. "Professor, it has also come to my attention that she has no place to go once she recovers. I convey the wishes of most of the other X-men that she not come here."

"What makes you think I would offer her a place here?" he asked Scott, trying to give the impression that this had not been his intent.

"Professor, I know that you would do so with the best of motives, but there is too much bad blood between us. There is no way the X-men could forgive the things she has done." He paused, waiting for a response.

Charles sighed. "Scott, has she willingly served Apocalypse? Archangel did. He found a place here. Has she been a criminal for years? So have Gambit and Rogue, and yet we welcome them. Colossus was a member of the Acolytes. Most of you have dark sides, things of which you are not proud, but there is a place for you. I would not be so quick to dismiss her chance to redeem herself."

Scott remained unyielding despite his arguments, as did a few others who came to him to voice their displeasure with Mystique.

Most of his current problems, indeed, did involve Mystique, either directly or indirectly. Take Rogue, for example, who had been her foster child. She had come to see him two days ago with Remy holding her hand. "I'm pregnant," she said. "Beast took the test for me. I need to see if you can try to analyze my powers and see if they'll affect my baby."

He was delighted for her and agreed to help, of course, but that meant yet more energy going off in another direction. Hank would have less time, as he too was going to help her maintain her pregnancy, and Rogue was off duty as of yesterday due to her condition. That made yet another team member unavailable in case of emergency.

Charles sighed. Perhaps some aspirin would relieve his headache and then he could get to the business aspects of the school, which he had neglected frightfully these past few weeks.

No. Not yet. He put his head on the desk and moaned as he heard a young voice coming down the hall toward his office, and another voice trailing after. It was Jubilee and … Tessa?

" … just gotta see him! He can't let Wolvie do this!"

"Reconsider. Dr. Gray said to wait."

He slowly raised his head. Jubilee burst in. "Professor, Mystique musta done something to Wolverine. She probably seduced him, the tramp, but you gotta stop her. He was right there with her in bed, you know? She can't just take him. It isn't right. Get rid of her."

Tessa followed behind, apologetic. "I'm sorry, Professor. Dr. Gray asked me to contain Jubilee."

He waved his hand, resigned. "Oh, I'm certain you did your best, Tessa. Now, if you could leave us?" She exited, and he tried to regain his normal calm.

Jubilee pounded on his desk impatiently. "Well?" she demanded.

He could not look at her right now. "Jubilee," he said quietly, "were there any stab wounds, gun shots, or other obvious injuries to Wolverine?"

"No," she answered, puzzled.

"Good. Did it seem that she had possessed or taken over his mind? Was she making him into her puppet, copying her every move?"

"No," she answered suspiciously.

He looked directly at her. "Then unless she caused him obvious life-or-death mental or physical harm, take your petty complaints about Wolverine elsewhere. Get out of here. You're wasting my time."

Her mouth opened wide, and then she closed it and frowned. "You'll see," she threatened as she left, slamming the door shut hard and compounding his tension.

Aspirin? He should see if he could get Jean or Hank to get him some methadone or codeine. His head was pounding too hard for him to enjoy his own jokes.


	10. Girls and Boys Together

With a slash of the rapier in his tail, he dispatched the last of Guy of Gisbourne's men. "So shall you fall, villain!" he shouted. He was sweating terribly, but he felt much better.

The scenario ended, and Kurt was left standing in the middle of the empty Danger Room. The adrenaline was still pumping and he had to fight off the urge to set up another scenario to fight. Starring Logan as the villain.

Maybe eating instead would sublimate his rage.

He carefully cleaned his swords and put them away, then headed to the nearby showers. The warm water was wonderful, and he began singing as he scrubbed. " … restoration, wash my body clean …"

He rubbed his fur dry, still singing " … house of stone and light," as he did. He straightened his hair a little with his fingers, and wished for a comb, but Scott had taken the comb away. Again. He rolled his eyes and walked out in a clean robe. Rogue was standing outside, leaning to the left, and turned to meet him. "Hi, Kurt," she said, blushing a little.

"Sister? What are you doing here?" He wondered … how long had she been waiting?

"Do you know what the house of stone and light is, really? It's interesting. Once you know, that song makes a lot more sense. It's the western Native American term for the Grand Canyon. See, you can wash in the water because of the Colorado River. It flows right through there." She was babbling.

He broke into her chatter. "You waited here to tell me that?"

"No. No, I didn't." She turned away from him a little. "I wanted to see you. And Mystique. Kind of a family meeting."

He frowned. He had been avoiding his mother these days, trying to pick times when he knew Logan was busy elsewhere to visit her. He still wanted to get to know her better, but he felt uneasy around his friend.

"Now?" He knew Logan had no duties until at least four o'clock. He would probably be with her.

"Yeah."

He paused. "Rogue? How are you handling … him?"

She stared at him. "Remy's fine. What do I need to handle him for?"

"No, no. I meant Logan."

She took his hand. "Walk with me."

"I need clothes."

"I know." She looked at him, amused. "Though if Kitty were invited, I might just leave you as you are."

"Rogue!" He glared at her.

"What? You know she likes you." Rogue winked.

He sighed. "How are you dealing with it, though? I find it infuriating. Strange."

She snorted. "Well, Remy just laughs. He says if anyone does, Mystique deserves him."

He was surprised into a brief laugh, himself. "That does sound like Remy."

"As for me, I don't know. It's kinda weird. I know Logan, and I know he's a good man. I've known Mama far too long to think what y'all think about her. I know she's done some bad things, but she can be very good, too. Them together still kinda freaks me. I guess I just let it slide because I don't want to lose either of them." She dropped his hand. "Go get dressed. I'll meet ya in her room."

He went to his room and got into a spare uniform, thinking. She had not said why she was calling this family meeting. What could it be about? He had been too distracted to concentrate on that, instead focussing on his main worry about Wolverine. He hoped his sister was okay.


	11. All in the Family

"What do you think my daughter wants?"

I turned back to look at Mystique. "Dunno. Could be just about anything. She was sweatin' bullets, though."

"I hope she is not going to give me an ultimatum. She used to, sometimes." She shifted a little in her chair.

"Doin' okay?" I stayed where I was. Believe it or not, Mystique could be kinda stubborn and got real mad if you decided she needed help when she thought she was fine.

"I am still unused to sitting. I fear physical therapy will be a nightmare." She shifted a little again.

"You'll make it. The kids won't let you do anything else." I moved to a chair next to hers. "Sure you want me here? She said it was a family meetin' and all."

She put on her "Mystique, Queen of the World" look, drawing herself up straighter and prouder than even Cyke can do. "I choose who my family is. I decided that long ago. You will stay."

"Will I, Raven?" I looked her straight in the eyes, steady and hard.

She ducked her head a little. "Please stay." She looked at me sideways, and I nodded.

"As long as you're askin', I guess I can." Truth is, I wasn't sure if I should, with the elf so cold and Rogue actin' strange, but she wanted me here.

'Sides, if I only did what I should, I wouldn't be me.

Remy came in, then, smelling of Rogue. He gave a small bow. "Logan." I tipped him a wave. "Mystique."

"Jeremy," she said.

He stood by the door. "Why you always so stiff? Name's Remy."

She looked uncomfortable. "Remy, then." She shifted in her chair again.

"So, you gettin' married?" I relaxed in my seat, keeping an eye on Mystique as I talked to him.

"What?" He looked confused.

"Just guessin.' If Rogue wants you here and it's a family thing, it makes sense."

"Oh." He chuckled. "Don' give ol' Gambit a heart attack, cher."

"What does Rogue have to tell us?" Mystique settled, finally, and Remy moved to the bed.

"Can't tell ya that. She knows where I sleep." He sat down and winked at me.

I knew what that was like. Mystique raised an eyebrow at him. "She is not dying, is she?"

He looked a bit startled. "Non, non. Nothin' like that, mes amis. Jus' private and personal." He watched Mystique squirm again. "You sittin' on a tack?"

"No," she said, firmly. "I am merely unused to remaining seated for so long."

He got up and gestured to the bed. I shook my head. "Remy, she's gotta stay in that chair for at least another hour. Dr. McCoy said so, and you're not letting her get out of it."

"I was not trying to get out of it," she muttered rebelliously as Remy sat down again. "I was simply explaining."

"I know, darlin'." I took her hand gently. "It's okay. Nothin' but family here."

She laughed a little at that. "I suppose you are right."

I love hearing her laugh. It always sounds a little surprised.

Yeah, I've gone crazy. But don't try bringing a shrink in. If this is crazy, I don't want sane.


	12. Ripples in the Pond

Kurt came in, eyes wary. Jeremy greeted him cheerily, the glint of mischief in his eyes. "Hey, Kurt. Good to see you."

"Guten tag," he said, doubtful and cautious. He nodded to Rogue, seated by Jeremy, then looked at me. He started to smile, but then he saw Logan and he stopped. "Hello, mother."

I nodded. "My son. It is good to see you again. It has been some time."

"Hey, elf." Kurt was ignoring him, but Logan was not an easy person to ignore. Oddly enough, that seems to be a trait he shares with Jeremy. 

Kurt's eyes cut to his face, then to our linked hands, and he nodded, though he looked at Rogue.

I moved again, trying to get comfortable. I despise weakness, and I particularly hate weaknesses which are mine alone. Perhaps no one will notice.

"Mother?" He looked worried. "Are you all right?"

Blast. Perdition. "I am well. Rogue, why are we here?"

She cleared her throat. "Well, I have something to tell ya. I'm going off duty for a while."

Logan and Kurt leaped in. "Sister, are you well?" "Why, kid?" Jeremy began quietly laughing, and Rogue rolled her eyes.

"Can you hold back at all, guys? For heaven's sake, y'all should let me get in a word." She paused, and Logan squeezed my hand as I shifted position again. "You see, uhm, I'm pregnant, and …"

I was nearly deafened by the congratulations being extended by Logan and Kurt. They both approached my daughter. I was stunned. Little Rogue?

No. She was not so little. I looked at her, then at Jeremy. Beneath the pride and amusement on his face as he watched the men fawn over my child, there was my own worry, mirrored. Good. He was not merely a pretty peacock. He might not be too bad for my daughter.

I cleared my throat, and my son and my - dear God, what can one call Logan? He is not my lover at present, most endearments seem silly when applied to him, and his name is not easy to shorten. Hm. My irritant? - looked over at me. "Do they think you can carry the pregnancy to term, so far?"

Rogue's elation diminished, and Jeremy's arm tightened around her. Kurt's face became concerned, and his grip changed to monitor her pulse. Logan's face darkened, and he looked back at her. She tried to cover things up with a smile. "Well, they don't rightly know, yet. Hank's gonna be monitoring me, and we're gonna call in an obstetrician to keep an eye on me. Remy's gonna take some time off, too, so's I can have someone with me just in case."

As the men talked to her, I turned an idea over in my head. Rogue being off duty, Jeremy being off with her, Logan having an interest in her well-being, as did Kurt and I … it could work, but to make things profitable, there had to be more people involved.

Rogue broke away from the others and came to me at last. "Are you all right with this, mama?"

I brushed her hair away from her face. My Rogue. "I suppose I must be. Whether I like it or not, you are pregnant and may have a child. I do reserve the right to worry about you." I tried to hold her, but she was too far away. She knelt and got closer so I could close my arms about her. "I do not relish being a grandmother. It makes me feel old."

"Now you know how I feel." Logan. Ridiculous man. I began laughing.

"Mystique, you never old." The flattering Jeremy was at it again.

Scott's voice came over the intercom. "All on alert status. Two enemy mutants, Pyro and Avalanche, approaching by car. Hold positions, people. We don't know that there will be another attack yet."

Rogue pulled away from me. Kurt teleported elsewhere. Logan moved to the door. I smiled. I knew why they were here. Petros had said he was coming for a visit.

Apparently, he had not told Charles.


	13. Entering Enemy Territory

St. John Allerdyce looked over at Dominic Petros, known better to the X-men as Avalanche. "You sure about this, mate?" He'd done some crazy things in the past, no doubt, but going to the X-men's headquarters to visit Mystique was right up there with the craziest. And most suicidal.

Not that Pyro had a problem with it. He was rather excited, truth be told …

Dom nodded. "I wrote her about it." He stopped the car at the gate and adjusted his helmet.

A voice crackled through the air. "What are you doing here, Avalanche?"

Dom leaned out the window. "Dominic Petros and St. John Allerdyce to see Mystique, please. And yes, we'd like fries with that."

St. John broke up. The whole situation was nonsense, but he loved it.

There was silence. He waited, fingers tapping on his knee, ready to fire things up at a moment's notice.

***********************************

Charles Xavier centered himself, then put Cerebra on and slowly reached out to Pyro and Avalanche.

__

going on anyway, taking a while isn't it, wonder if we'll have to take them on to get out again, fine thing to be punished for nothing

seen Misty, probably fine but can't be sure, and might get to see Rogue too, how is that girl these days, haven't seen her in ages

He reached deeper, past their surface thoughts, until he found what he was looking for. They were, apparently, telling the truth. They were merely here to visit Mystique.

************************************

Scott Summers, fully suited up, met Dr. McCoy by the front door. "Ready to head out, Beast?"

"One moment." The furry blue mutant searched through Bobby Drake's old jacket on the coat rack. "I knew they were here." He pulled an old yellow McDonald's container out of the front left pocket.

"What the hell is that?"

"Expletives, Cyclops? I was not aware you had it in you to express your feelings with such vehemence." Beast opened the door. "I am giving them what they asked for."

************************************

As they waited in the car, Avalanche turned the radio to an oldies station and started singing along with "Tainted Love." Pyro stared at him. "You like that '80s trash, mate? I think I'm losing all respect for you."

"Look who's talking. Who always sings along with 'Time in a Bottle'?" Avalanche turned the music up and sang louder. "Tainted love, whoa…tainted love…"

The gate opened and Beast and Cyclops approached their car. Cyclops took the lead. "Get out, please." The two men left the vehicle warily. "You realize we will have to ask you to leave any weapons behind."

Pyro snapped his fingers. "But my AK-47 goes with me everywhere!" He pretended to pout.

Beast grinned and Cyclops snapped, "Too bad. Leave it."

They disarmed, then Beast handed Avalanche a McDonald's box with stale yellow disgusting … fries. He gave them fries with it.

Things were looking up.


	14. Chaos and Confusion

Under the watchful eyes of Beast and Cyclops, the erstwhile enemies of the X-men, Avalanche and Pyro, were taken to Mystique's room in the basement of the mansion. Avalanche entered first and made room for Pyro, despite his amazement at her appearance. Mystique had really changed since he last saw her. She looked thin and tired, unhealthy. Her red hair was limp and her eyes had lost much of their former fire. She sat uncomfortably in a chair, but looked at him with her usual regal confidence as he walked in. "Hey, there, Misty. I said I'd come." He paused.

She nodded to him. "Dominic." She turned to Pyro. "St. John." Pyro waved at her. "Misty."

Beast and Cyclops entered after them. Cyclops took a position by the door, and Beast sat in a chair further away. "Dr. McCoy. Scott." She folded her hands. "Permit me to introduce you. You already know Rogue, of course." She wriggled a little in her seat.

"Good to see you again." "Heya." Rogue smiled at them and waved from her seat on the bed with Gambit. "Hi, boys."

"My son, Nightcrawler." Mystique pointed to the furry blue mutant standing guard by her chair. The two men greeted him, and he frowned, tensing and staring at them.

"My daughter's young man, Gambit, also known as Jeremy Etienne LeBeau."

Gambit raised an eyebrow. "Remy. Jus' Remy." He shook hands with the two men, his other hand tucked into his pocket casually. "Don' need to be so formal."

"And Wolverine you also already know." The short man was on the other side of Mystique. He did not offer to shake hands.

Pyro looked at Wolverine. "And you are?"

He took Mystique's hand as she frowned and crossed her ankles. Nightcrawler tensed and hissed a little. Wolverine stroked her hand with his thumb. "Family."

"What kind?"

"Close." He looked at Nightcrawler, who backed up a step, scowling.

Mystique rolled her eyes. "Enough, gentlemen. So. How was the book tour?"

"Same old thing. Horrid. Long. Lots of crazy women throwing themselves at me. Much like a Beatles concert, only with worse music." Pyro nabbed a stool and sat on it. "What'd you think of the story?"

"Pretty good. The ending was a little rushed, though."

"Yeah. I wanted to add another chapter, but my agent said to just save it for a sequel, so I did." He looked around the room. "Where is it?"

"I lent it to someone." Speculative glances were exchanged throughout the room and Wolverine laughed, though Scott did not look around and Mystique held her gaze on Pyro calmly. "I will have it back soon."

Avalanche laughed. "You're kidding me. Who'd you lend it to, Xavier?"

Mystique looked at him and shifted her weight to her right side, grimacing. "No one important, Dominic. How was the family?"

"Much as usual, I'm afraid."

"Was she twenty this time?" Mystique leaned forward, and he sighed.

"They got an eighteen year old girl for me, innocent as can be. Sheltered, traditional Catholic upbringing, and everything. I've tried to explain, but they just don't get it. I tried to let her down gently. They really built me up to her." He paused. "Dad's mostly all right with it, but Mom thinks if she just gets one that's nice enough, I'll reform and give her the grandkids she's expecting."

Pyro snorted and started laughing, getting everyone's attention. Avalanche gave him an angry stare as he coughed, sputtered, and wiped his mouth. "Sorry. Couldn't help it." He snickered a little as Avalanche turned back to Mystique. "Sorry," he repeated. "Go on, Av."

"I thought you'd gotten over this back at your place." He continued his conversation with Mystique. "Not much else to tell. I got back, hooked up with Py, and we came to see you." He moved to stand behind Pyro. "What's been happening with you?"

Mystique shifted her weight to her left side awkwardly. "All sorts of things have been happening. I have been spending time with my children. I am recovering from my illnesses. I have discovered that some people are very important to me." She looked up at Wolverine and reached for Nightcrawler's hand, which he gave reluctantly. "If you are not busy, I have a proposition for you two."

The men exchanged glances, then Pyro said, "Nothing else due to the publisher for a while. What's up?"

"Pardon me." Beast walked over to Mystique's chair and knelt at her side. "Are you experiencing extreme distress?"

She frowned. "I can handle it." He stared into her eyes, and she fidgeted a little. "I am uncomfortable, yes."

"Then let us return you to your supine state, shall we? If you could release her hands…" Nightcrawler and Wolverine let her go, and Beast got her on her feet. "Just a few feet to the bed, Mystique, and then you may recline in comfort."

"I would have been fine," she muttered rebelliously.

"Take a step." She slowly made her way, with his help, to her bed. Rogue and Gambit got up, and she eased herself back. "There. A few pillows, and you will be much better able to converse at your leisure."

She looked at him suspiciously. "Thank you, Dr. McCoy." She relaxed into the cushions as her guards took up their positions again. "Rogue, tell them your news."

"Mama, I don't know. I haven't told the rest of them yet, and it doesn't feel right to tell Dom and John when Kitty and the rest of the X-men haven't heard." Rogue blushed a little in the chair she'd claimed when Mystique moved.

"Very well. I shall inform them." Mystique raised her head proudly.

"Mama!" She glared daggers at Mystique. "Fine. Have it your way. I got knocked up," she blurted out.

Avalanche jerked back a little, startled by her vehemence. "Congratulations on it, then." 

Pyro nodded in agreement with Avalanche, then gestured to Gambit. "He the dad, or someone else?"

"No one else, homme. Jus' Gambit." Gambit looked a little smug, particularly at Scott's shocked reaction to Rogue's bald confession.

Mystique continued. "Both she and Jeremy … er, Remy … will, therefore, be unable to continue as team members for a time. That gave me the idea, but I could not see before how to make it work. Now I know. If you two join with my son and daughter, myself, Wolverine, and Gambit, we could form our own independent team, affiliated with the X-men. We would have time for you who are able-bodied to train and get used to working together, as well as to set up our own facilities. We would even be able to take on a few missions soon, assuming you can stand each other and assuming you and Charles agree to my proposal."

The room was silent, and then everyone started talking at once. Nightcrawler talked urgently with Mystique, Hank and Scott shouted with Remy and Rogue, and Pyro and Avalanche held their own debate. Wolverine stood to the side, arms crossed, keeping his own counsel.


	15. Sound and Fury

"Mother, what have you done?" My son grabbed my arm and leaped to my side, leaning precariously on the bed frame. 

I turned to speak with him. "What I should have done a long time ago."

"Asking us to work with criminals?" He shook his head, agitated. "Are you out of your mind?"

That angered me. I took his chin and pulled myself within six inches of him. "Never insult my intelligence, boy. I have led more teams than you ever will and I know what I am proposing here. Do not insult your sister or her lover, either. They are as much 'criminals' as I, or St. John, or even … " I paused. I had to come up with a shorter name for Logan somehow. "Logan. Besides, I am not proposing a criminal enterprise!"

He flinched as I spoke. He looked down at his hand on my arm, then pulled away. "I am sorry for insulting you. I just do not see the value in working with them."

I took his hand back, holding it in mine. "Kurt, can you do something for me?"

"Was?" He glanced back at me.

This would take all my persuasive powers. I gathered my courage and put my other hand on top of his. "Could you listen to what I have to say about Dominic and St. John and trust that, at least, I am telling you what I believe to be true about them?"

He nodded slowly. "Ja." He perched beside me comfortably.

"Dominic does not usually play by the rules, it is true. He does enjoy using his power to destroy things as well. But when he agrees to be part of a team, he will do whatever it takes to help his teammates. For example, he took a bullet for me once, when I was already down and probably would have died. St. John is not quite as self-sacrificing as is Dominic, but he is quite gallant in his own way. I know he will do what I ask, because I have earned his trust and respect. I am certain both of them will gladly work with me on the right side of the law if they give their word."

I could not hear his response, so I pulled him closer. He repeated, "Easy for you to say, Mother."

I turned and said, forcefully, into his ear, "Would you believe Rogue?"

His eyes widened. "I … that I do not know. I would have to think about it."

"Good. Do so. I should like to have the opportunity to work with you, son."

*****************************

"Are you out of your bleedin' mind?" Pyro threw his arms wide. "We aren't X-men. We're criminals. We get hunted by the X-men!"

"Wait a minute, John." Avalanche tugged at his suit. "Misty might have a point, here."

The man's wild blue eyes stared into his brown ones. "You're crazy too, aren't you, Dom? Jesus, what kind of disease does Misty have? I think you've got it." His eyes lit up. "I think this is the first time I've been the only sane one of the two of us!"

"But wait. Listen." He crouched down and tugged Pyro closer to the floor as well. "The X-men have always ruined our plans. Hell, Py, you realized that once and helped them keep us from taking out that bastard, Kelly. They're usually right like that. Think about it."

Pyro sat back on his heels. His face calmed and he put his chin in his left hand. "Go on. Explain how we're going to work with people who think we're murderin' psychos."

"Well, why not try to be on their side for once? Rogue did it. They seem to trust her all right."

"We aren't cute girls, you know. She was." He stroked his chin. "Though I do like the idea of the X-boys having to take us in."

Avalanche's eyes gleamed with mischief. "Yeah, even though we'd be working for Misty, we'd still be technically part of their group."

Pyro's face came back to life. With Mystique in charge... "Imagine, too, having all this available to us." His hand swept the room, indicating the expensive medical equipment and the general quality of the items furnishing it. "The possibilities are endless."

"Yeah. Imagine that." He rose to his feet in one quick, feline movement. Pyro stood with him and watched the squabbling groups. "There are a few down sides, but otherwise, I think we could get real comfy here."

******************************

"I knew it! I knew she was trying to bring us down all along!" Scott exulted. He was right. Mystique was trying to subvert the X-men. Imagine trying to split the team like that!

"What the hell are you talking about?" Rogue advanced on him, Remy at her side, and Hank murmured, "Scott is not entirely correct, but he may have a point."

Rogue and Scott rounded on him. "May have a point? I'm right!"

"Scott doesn't know what he's sayin'! Mama's got a good idea!"

Remy hung back a little, smiling, trying to hold back his laughter. Hank tried to soothe the two angry mutants confronting him. "I merely meant that Mystique has indeed tried to split us up before. Scott speaks from experience, though I also meant that having worked with the lady in question for some time, she may well have good motivations."

"Good motivations? From a murderer and terrorist?"

"Oh, shut the hell up, Scott. Like you know what it like, bein' on the wrong side but doin' right." Remy stepped between Scott and Rogue, who was glaring daggers at the man and had risen a few inches into the air.

"I'm not talking to you, Remy." Scott glowered at him.

"Good. You talk to me instead. She's MY mother." Rogue pushed at Remy.

"Rogue, perhaps you should desist. Your powers …"

"Don't you try anything on me, Hank. I'm not lettin' this stuck up jerk talk gibberish about my mama, no matter what!" She turned back to Scott and stabbed a finger at him. "All this time, all these years, and you still can't accept 'criminals' who reform, huh? Fine. I quit the X-men. I was a criminal, too, as bad as she was."

Scott's mouth dropped open. "You can't quit! We need you!"

"No, ya don't. I'm an evil person." She turned her back on him.

"Perhaps we should not make rash decisions?" Hank tried again to calm things down, feeling the situation spinning out of control.

"Exactly. Stop this folly, Rogue. You're an X-man."

"Remy quittin' too." He ruffled up his brown hair and put his arm around Rogue. "If y'don't want criminals around, you don't want Remy here."

"Damn it all, cut it out! You two are behaving irresponsibly!" Scott slammed a hand into the wall, then tried to keep from screaming as the pain hit.

"Please. Remy. Rogue. Do not let Scott's ill-chosen verbiage drive you away from our home together." Hank, distressed, walked around the pair so he could meet them eye to eye.

"This is different!" Scott also tried to meet Rogue's eyes, but she turned away from him and looked at Hank warmly.

"Thanks for YOUR support, Hank. I appreciate it."

"Try to understand. Mystique's a murderer! She has no morals, no values. She'll do anything! We've seen it!" He couldn't believe it. Mystique had corrupted two of his team under his nose. "We know and trust you guys. You've proven your loyalty."

"So you won't give anyone else a chance, homme? Seem pretty stupid to Remy."

He stopped, unable to speak. Hank's eyes met his. "Touche, no, Mr. Summers?"


	16. Aftermath

Mystique's little bomb went off and I just stood there, tryin' to sort it out. No point talking to anyone right now. Kurt wasn't listening to me, Mystique was busy, my teammates were dukin' it out in front of the door, and I didn't feel like talking to Pyro or Avalanche just yet.

The trouble was that it wasn't such a bad idea. Oh, sure, Kurt and I were on bad terms right now, I didn't trust Pyro or Avalanche at all. I didn't know yet if Chuck'd go for it, either. But she was right. She and Rogue would be out of it for a while. That would give us time to see if we could patch things up and work together as a group, not to mention working out all the other personal crap we had going on right now.

I held back and watched as Rogue and Scott got louder, screaming at each other. Pyro and Avalanche were walking over to see Mystique, wearing identical mischievous expressions, and I backed off. Kurt moved away too.

In a heartbeat, things changed. Chuck popped into our heads. I was a little offended, to be honest. I hadn't taken part in any of this nonsense. He said quietly to each of us, "Why are you making so much noise?"

I don't know what anyone else said, but I told him off. "Wasn't makin' any. Get out of my head, Chuck."

"Why was everyone else, then? And …" I could feel him, wantin' to tell me to stop calling him Chuck, but he stopped before he asked.

"Mystique had a little idea. It's not such a bad one, either. If you want to know more, ask her." I crossed my arms and tried to slam shut the door he'd opened in my mind.

He sighed. "Very well. I shall depart from you."

I shook my head, hard. It always felt weird having someone other than me in my head. Must be what it's like to be Rogue sometimes. I looked around the room. Pyro and Avalanche looked blitzed. Summers was almost entirely red. Rogue still wanted to hit somebody, and Remy was all riled up too. Hank was confused, Kurt apologetic, and Mystique …

She looked offended, but under that, I could see she was worried. Her eyebrows wrinkled up like that when she was nervous and tryin' to hide it. I scooted on over and held her. She looked at me and the creases smoothed out, though she tried to look annoyed instead. Didn't work.

After about five minutes, the prof had finished with all of them and spoke over our communicators this time. Smart guy, though he can be pretty dumb sometimes. "I will consider Mystique's proposal. For now, I have scanned her thoroughly and have obtained her promise, which I believe to be sincere, that she will not try to escape or work against us in any way. She may have her freedom and will begin rehabilitation as soon as possible. As for Avalanche and Pyro, they may go where they wish in the mansion as long as someone escorts them. I will render a final decision tomorrow. Now, please, keep your voices down and stay out of any further trouble. Please?" Huh. Never heard old Chuck pleading that way. He must not have had his Lucky Charms this morning.

Scott didn't bitch about it at all as Hank came over and opened the cuff on Mystique's right wrist. She sighed in relief and rubbed it a little. "At last."

I stayed where I was. Kurt stared at me. Rogue and Remy looked at the floor. An awkward silence fell over all of us.

Pyro broke the silence. "Say, Rogue, did you get a chance to read my book yet?"

"No," she said, staring at the bed frame.

"Well, let me go get a copy for you. I have tons in the car."

"I'll come with you." She practically ran over to him, but Scott cut her off. 

"No. I'll go with him."

"You?" She looked him up and down, disgusted.

"Yes. I need to talk to him about something."

She didn't like it, but she went with it. "All right. I'll be here, waiting."

Scott left, ramrod straight, following Pyro. Hank left, too. That left me, Mystique, Kurt, Rogue, Remy, and Avalanche. Remy grinned. "So, who else plays poker?"

Mystique nodded, Avalanche said, "I do," and Kurt sighed. "I will only play if we are not playing for money."

"Good thinkin', elf." I remembered the last time I played against Remy for money. Ended up owin' him five thousand dollars.

Remy pretended to sulk. "Why play poker if no money change hands?"

"Because that is the only way we will play." Mystique folded her arms and he gave up.

"Okay, okay. Playin' pretend poker. Remy can do this."

***************************************

Scott followed Pyro out of the room silently and spoke only after they had gone up one flight of stairs. "So you really wrote Flames of the Riviera?"

Pyro nodded. "Guilty as charged." 

"That means you also wrote Twilight Gardens and Cloud Castles." He stopped walking and Pyro took a few steps, then turned back, grinning broadly.

"You must be the one she gave it to! Good." The blond mutant grinned. "Always glad to meet a fan, especially when it's not a clueless fifty year old woman throwing herself at me."

Scott raised an eyebrow and Pyro shrugged. "Just been on a book tour. You wouldn't believe how desperate some of them are."

"Maybe I would. I've heard some of Jean-Paul's stories." He leaned against the wall. 

Pyro gasped. "Jean-Paul Beaubier? He's here?"

"Yes." He enjoyed the man's reaction. "Been here only a few months. Jean found him while he was doing his book tour, now that I think about it. Know him?"

"By reputation alone, mate. Gotta keep my eyes on my rivals. Fifth on the best seller list this week, you know. Hm." He thought for a moment. "Dom'd probably be interested in talking with him, too."

"He skis?" Scott was curious. Pyro's words were innocent, but his tone intimated a deeper meaning.

Pyro looked directly at him. "Yeah. He skis. Downhill." He was fighting to keep a straight face.

Scott gave up. "Why romance novels?"

"Why do you read them?"

"Point taken." He smiled sheepishly. "Don't tell, please."

Pyro narrowed his eyes. "All right, but you'll owe me a favor."

He frowned. He should have known there'd be a catch. The guy was an evil mutant, after all…wasn't he? "Fine. So why do you want to join us?"

Pyro shrugged. "Misty asked. Had nothing better to do. Why not?"

"Are you really ready to live by our rules?"

The man retorted, "You think Misty didn't have rules, mate?"

They stood there, silent, until Pyro spoke up again. "So, gonna stand there all day? Crikey, you aren't letting the evil Pyro wander the mansion alone, are you?" He started walking away.

"Saint John?" Pyro stopped as Scott addressed him by his pen name. "May I ask you something?"

He turned, raising an eyebrow. "The air's free, and the ears are open."

"There was a scene in Twilight I've always wondered about, the one in the belfry. You know, when Genevra finally let go and landed in Maximilien's arms? Was that based on anything real?"

Pyro closed his eyes and his face stilled. "No. Just a lovely dream. The lady I favor's never fallen for me, mate, and I don't think she ever will." He turned on his heel and began walking again, and Scott escorted him out.


	17. Seeking Consent

I returned to my room, walking slowly and leaning on my cane. Many of the students stared at me as I made my way back down the stairs. Scott Summers was ascending as I descended, laundry in his arms, and nodded cordially at me.

That was odd. I continued on my way, puzzling over his strange friendliness. Perhaps he had, to quote my … Logan, "gotten laid."

Logan was asleep on my bed when I returned. I stopped, looking at him. He seemed unhappy about something, flexing his claws in and out of his right hand and grunting. I was about to try to awaken him when I remembered his warning and desisted, instead going to my chair by the wall and sitting in it.

Dr. McCoy soon arrived and quietly took my vital signs. "Might I inquire about the Professor's response to your plan?"

I cleared my throat. "He has provisionally accepted our team, assuming the others agree to join me."

"Congratulations!" He shook my hand firmly. I kept from wincing with an effort and shifted my muscles to heal the slight damage he had caused. He then whispered, "Follow me."

I walked with him out to the corridor. He leaned in and continued whispering, "Should you care to join our mutual friend in his slumbers, I foresee no ill effects."

I translated his speech in my mind and smiled. "I assume you mean this time, Dr. Grey should have no concerns regarding my well-being."

"Precisely." He beamed at me.

"Did you inform Logan?"

"No. I had thought that task should belong to you, and," he bent closer and whispered in a conspiratorial tone, "with you I would not have to give graphic descriptions of what I meant."

I laughed. Logan was many things, but subtle was not one of them, particularly when someone was sensitive on a subject.

"I see. Thank you, Doctor."

He winked. "If you ever need someone to give you a hand, or a foot, please do not hesitate to call." He swung away down the hall as I turned back to my room and the large problem awaiting me in it.

The problem in question was yawning and stretching on the side of the bed as I re-entered the room. I took a moment to enjoy the sight. He cracked his neck and held out a hand to me. "So, how'd it go with Chuck?"

I took it and sat by his side. "As well as might be anticipated. He insisted on our following general protocol, and he wished for all of you to remain available to him when you were not working with me, but generally very well."

"Good." He kissed my hand and yawned again. "What was up with Hank?"

I hesitated, then decided to keep this information to myself for the time being and surprise him with it later. "He told me that there were no further barriers to physical activities on my part, as long as I do not exhaust myself."He started laughing. "Yeah, that sounds like Hank, all right." I relaxed a fraction. He sighed. "So, you going to tell everyone about the prof's decision, or are ya gonna wait for them to come to you?"

"Let them come to me. I have never been one to force membership in a group on anyone."

His blue eyes twinkled at me. "Bet the elf'd appreciate bein' asked, though."

I thought about that, how hurt Kurt had been by the many things I had done over the years, and his current pain over my relationship with Logan. It came to me finally that one reason for his discomfort might be that I was choosing someone else over him. I nodded briskly. "Let us find my son."

He helped me to my feet, then took out his communicator. "Chuck give you one of these yet?"

I frowned. "No, though he did issue me a uniform. He assures me that by the time I am ready to use it, it will fit." The thing had hung on me. I looked like a child trying to wear her mother's clothing.

Logan spoke into the communicator for a moment, then closed it. "We're in luck. Kurt, Rogue, and Remy are all in the kitchen. Let's go." He readied my wheelchair. I sighed but reluctantly sat in the metal reminder of my inability to walk. I found myself pitying Charles as Logan wheeled me to the kitchen to tell my children what had happened. I would be able to walk again. He would not. He must hate his chair more than I hated mine.

*********************************

As the two of them approached, Mystique and Logan, two of the three figures at the table sat up. Remy remained relaxed, leaning against the back of his chair. Rogue leaped to her feet and took Mystique's chair from Logan, helping her into a spot by an empty chair. Kurt tensed and watched the two of them. _God, help me to relax. It is none of my business … but still …_

He sat by her, lifting a lock of her red hair from her face gently, and she smiled in thanks. Kurt watched, amazed. _He does love her. I have been trying to deny it, but he does. She loves him. Where does that leave the rest of us?_

Mystique rested her hands on the table, then stood. "I wanted to tell you in person," she said, slow and steady, amber eyes sweeping them all in turn. "Charles has approved my team with the proviso that you remain available to work with the X-men, should there be a need. I wanted to ask you each, personally, however, to join with me. I believe each of you have valuable skills you could bring to our team." She focussed on Kurt. "I also care deeply for you and wish you to remain close to me, whatever your decision."

Remy smiled, put a hand in his pocket, and pulled out a red poker chip. "Gambit's in." Rogue just nodded. "Mama."

Kurt held back a little. He was still worried, worried for Mystique and worried about Logan. He looked down at the table, watching the fur on his right wrist. He remembered the stories Mystique had shared with him about his father. He had to ask.

"Mother?" he said, not looking up. He felt glances being exchanged and then saw a slim blue hand, close to his own dark shade, take his.

"Yes, Kurt?" Her voice was neutral.

"Do you truly care for Logan, as you once did my father?" He waited, head bowed. Soft rustles met his ears. Her hand tensed on his.

"Logan is not your father. However," she paused to breathe, then rushed out, "I do love him and wish to stay with him."

Logan inhaled sharply. Rogue shifted in her seat. Remy remained lazily inclined in his seat, toying with another chip. Her hand remained tense on his.

He sighed and finally looked up. "And you?"

Logan tore his eyes away from Mystique, who was proudly looking off into the distance toward the cabinets above the sink. He looked amazed and pleased. "Much the same, elf."

"I want to hear it." He put his hand on top of his mother's, which had relaxed as Logan spoke.

"Of course I love her. She's stubborn, arrogant, irritating, cocky, and pushy. Just like me. Wonderful." He took her other hand and she looked into his eyes with love and exasperation.

Kurt smiled and sighed. "I will join you. I hope the best for the two of you. May He bless you." He felt a weight drop from his chest and squeezed his mother's hand.

Remy nudged him. "Take her hand wit' your other one, homme." He held out his gloved hand to Kurt, who switched hands and took it. The others quickly caught on and soon they were all holding hands in a circle, sharing the rare closeness of this moment together.


	18. Fire and Ashes

St. John adjusted the new uniform he had been issued. It was a little loose around the neck. It was fair decent, though, and he smoothed his hands over it, enjoying the soft leathery feel in his palms. The red and orange blended together, making him look like a living flame, and the flame-retardant insulation was good quality but light. He preened a little in the mirror and called over his shoulder. "So, what do you think, Dom?"

Dominic Petros was lying idly on his bed, the other side of the room from St. John's, turning the pages of his friend's latest romance novel. His brown hair fell into his eyes and he pushed it away violently. He snorted. "Do women really talk like this?"

"Some of them." He walked over and posed as Dom looked up from the book. "Come on. Look at me. What do you think?" He stretched his arms wide.

Dom rolled his eyes. "You're beautiful. Believe me. Now, can I keep on with this? Someone here insisted I read it and give him my opinion, and I'd like to get it over with this century." He returned to the book, his green turtleneck wrinkling as he moved back into place.

St. John sat on the side of the bed. "Speaking of someone here, I found out that there's been a new arrival."

Dom turned a page.

"You'd probably want to know who he is."

Dom didn't blink an eye.

"Yes, you probably would."

Dom closed the book and sat up with a resigned expression, leaving the book on the end table next to his bed. "Let me guess. You're not going to leave me alone unless I ask."

His eyes dancing with mischief, St. John nodded. "Try guessing first."

He sighed. "Blob's come to join us."

St. John laughed. "Nope. Good one, mate. Wonder if we could bring him in."

"No." Dom's flat denial touched off more laughter.

"Try again. Really." He leaned forward eagerly. Dom raised an eyebrow.

"No. You tell me."

He leaned back and casually ran his fingers through his hair. "Jean-Paul Beaubier's joined the X-men's happy little family here."

He felt Dom heave another sigh. "That's great. Haven't I already told you that, despite your desire to have everyone settled around you, I don't need your help?"

He shrugged and grinned at Dom, whose face showed exasperation but, perhaps, some interest as well…. "Just thought I'd mention it."

"It's been mentioned. Now, drop it." Dom turned away and opened the book again, brown eyes dropping to the page before him. "Going somewhere, all dressed up like that?"

St. John arose and straightened his collar again. "Was thinking of finding Misty and seeing what's up with the team."

Dom nodded, his eyes never leaving the book. "Let me know what she tells you."

"Sure thing, Dom." He carefully closed their door behind him and started jauntily walking down to Misty's room in the basement.

************************

Once Pyro had left, Dominic put down the book and frowned. Of course he knew of Jean-Paul Beaubier. Who didn't? Most famous mutant out there, he was.

But here? Right here? Not part of their group, of course, but living in the same place made him accessible …

No. No way. St. John might believe in fairy tales, but Dominic believed in reality. Reality didn't work this way. Being gay didn't mean anything any more than not being gay did. He'd met his share of gay assholes in his time.

Who cared if the guy was gorgeous? And quite available? It didn't matter. They probably wouldn't like each other, anyway.

He picked up the book again and concentrated on it hard, squelching all inclination to replace the heroine, red-haired and strong, with someone else. Besides, it wasn't fair to Py if he did.

Unconsciously, Dominic Petros was humming his favorite song as he read. "Tainted Love." 

************************

Misty's room was empty. Of Misty, that is. The room itself held oodles of flowers, cards, medical equipment, furniture, lamps, as well as the bed to the left side. On the bed rested a small blue toy, a vaguely humanoid creature with a huge round nose. Curious, he picked it up. There was a small tag attached to its neck with a blue ribbon. "To my mother, a bamf of her own, from her son the Nightcrawler."

Cute. He chuckled a little, then frowned. Where would Misty be? If he were Misty, able to finally walk about, he would go … ah. Yes.

He headed out of the room, a man with a purpose. Now, if only Misty were alone when he found her!

**********************

The kitchen was lit by the golden late afternoon sunlight. It shone on the two people at the table, holding hands. "I am surprised that you were willing to say it out loud to them."

"Why not?" The man stretched, his hair gleaming with hints of gold. "Already told Jean I was sleepin' with you."

She gave him a frustrated, yet amused, look. "That was a joke. This was serious, in front of my family."

He shrugged and put his arm around her, pulling her closer. "I was serious. Doesn't matter who sees it." He took in a large breath through his nose. "Doesn't matter to you, either, right?"

She changed positions, lying her bright head on his shoulder, rusty locks spilling over his flannel collar. "Not as such. I confess some unease before I knew what your reaction would be and disquiet at Kurt's demands."

He gently took a piece of her hair, stroking it as he spoke. "Elf just had to sort it out in his head. He'll come around some time."

"I sincerely hope so." She looked over at him as he leaned in and kissed her, softly turning her head to meet his with just the tips of his fingers.

Pyro stood, stunned, in the doorway behind Mystique and Logan. He was staring, but he didn't realize it. He had time for one thought. Now, I know that I got it right in my books, he mused. When the hero sees the heroine with someone else, his heart does break.

He turned to go as the lovers separated. There was no hope for him now. He knew the way that people in love looked, and the two of them had that look in spades.

Logan said, quietly, not looking at him, "Gonna go, or gonna be polite and speak up, Allerdyce?"

St. John pulled himself together as the lovebirds turned to look at him, putting on his usual amused expression. It felt plastic and ridiculous, but if it was, neither Misty nor Logan let on. "Just don't want to intrude on a private moment, mate. Goes against my nature."

Mystique raised her head proudly, twisting around to see him. "Certainly not. What can I do for you, St. John?"

He smiled and repeated the cover story he'd told Avalanche earlier. "Just wanted to see if there was something going on for the team tomorrow. We really should start working together." It was possible to keep going with a broken heart. He'd have to incorporate this whole experience into his next story.

"Not that soon. I will begin having regular team practices in about a week or so. In the meantime, I suggest you become familiar with each other and the rest of the X-men in a more informal way, by taking meals and Danger Room workouts together." Misty looked cool and collected now. She was lovely.

He nodded. "Right. See you around, then." He tore his eyes from the couple and walked out as graciously as he could. Maybe his first attempt to get to know his new teammates should be in the local bars while he got rip-roaring drunk. He left, considering who to ask and who would know the best places to get a good stiff drink.

*****************************

I watched until the fire guy was gone. He smelled wrong somehow. Mystique sighed. "I fear we shall have many more such encounters."

"Hm?" I looked her over. She stretched out her neck, turning from one side to the other.

"I do not believe most people are ready to accept us as a couple. St. John's reaction will probably be typical."

Maybe that was why the guy had a funny scent. Sure. "Guess so." I put my arm back around her. "You mind?"

She smiled and snuggled into my side. "Not really. I can understand their surprise. I will tolerate it."

Good. I unwound and let her warmth sink into me. "Logan?"

"Yep."

"Would you show me your quarters?"

"Why?" I was playing with her hair again. I found a gold strand and held it to the light.

"I wish to see where you reside. You have already seen my room numerous times." She was hidin' something again. It didn't sound important, though, so I let it slide this time.

"Sure." I pushed her out of the kitchen and over to the elevator. "It ain't much, but it's mine."

"I would wager you say that to all the women you take there."

Mystique? Teasin' me? I bared my teeth at her. "Every time." She gave me an innocent look as the elevator door opened and Chuck wheeled out. He nodded. "Mystique. Logan."

I pushed her in. She said, formally, "Charles." I didn't say anything. Figured I didn't have to. He turned around and watched us as the door closed, one eyebrow slightly raised.

Heh. Poor old Chuck was wonderin' what was goin' on.

Let him.


	19. Painting the Town

'Her lips trembled. His green eyes followed every move. What was she going to say? "Lord D'Alain," she began, eyes downcast, hands twisting in her lap.'

Dom looked up from the book as St. John burst back into their room, slamming the door open and burning with energy. "Dom! Get up. We're going out drinking."

He put the book down, sighing. At this rate, he'd never get through this sappy story. "Okay. Why?"

The man bounced onto his bed, punching his arm lightly. His hand trembled a little and behind St. John's manic blue eyes and wide grin, he saw a desperate plea for help. "Oh, Misty said we should get to know each other informally. What's more informal than drinking?"

"St. John? What's wrong?" He got up and the blond man leaped off the bed to paw through a drawer.

"Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Ah!" He held up a wallet in triumph. "I'll gather the troops. You find a vehicle suitable for our night out. After all, you're designated driver."

"Hey!" The blond man turned at his cry. He was willing to help Py out, sure, but this was going above and beyond.

"Don't worry. I'm D.D. next time." St. John kept pushing the wallet at his side, looking confused. "Pockets. Pockets. Ah!" He slid the wallet into a waist pouch and waved energetically. "Good luck, Dom. See you at the motor pool."

Great. He was stuck being the responsible one again, waiting for his friend to get sloshed enough to talk about what was bothering him. He shook his head and gave himself a once-over in the mirror. At least he was good at it, he thought, running a comb through his wayward hair. "You should have known better," he told his sober reflection's brown eyes. He straightened his turtleneck and shook his head. "You should never have gotten involved."

His reflection did not answer, but his expression lightened as he turned away. St. John didn't have a bad idea, at that, even though it left him high and dry. He picked up his keys and walked out of the room to find Charles Xavier.

* * *

St. John sped down the hallway of the men's dormitory wing, then stopped. Why go ask the girls first when he was already here? Smiling, he turned and knocked on the first door.

The tousled brown head of Scott Summers peered out, then the door opened fully. "St. John? Do you need something?"

"No, no, no, no, no. YOU need something. You need a good stiff drink. Come with me and I'll see you get it." He walked away but stopped when he noticed that the other man had not budged from the doorway.

"Sorry. I have plans tonight." Scott sighed, scratching his head. "Thanks, though. Why don't you ask Kurt? He's the one who really needs time out."

"Kurt?" Kurt. Oh, yes. Misty's son. Perfect! He went to the man's room, not listening as Scott's door quietly closed and his and Dom's opened.

He knocked three times in rapid succession. No one answered, but he heard a shuffling noise.

"Are you all right in there?" He waited, fingers nervously tapping on the doorframe. There was a soft popping sound from behind his back and he whirled to see clouds of brimstone surrounding his quarry.

"Hello. Ready to …"

The blue man raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing outside my room?"

He backed up a step or two, smiling. "Asking you to come out drinking with us? Come on, mate, don't be sore. It'll be fun."

The blue man fingered his black and red uniform but relaxed. "Drinking. With you." He laughed shortly. "Who else are you asking?"

Pyro grinned. "Everybody. Well, other than a few fellas, I guess. By the way, which is Northstar's room?"

Kurt blinked, perplexed. "Over there. But why …" Pyro was already heading toward Northstar's door, calling back, "See you at the motor pool!"

He happily knocked on Northstar's door, then waited. No one answered. He knocked again, harder. No one answered again. He knocked harder and louder.

The door flew open with a bang and he had to leap backward to avoid knocking ON the man himself, whose blue eyes snapped with nearly palpable anger. Jean-Paul towered over him, looking far from the delicate, elfin figure in his skiing pictures. "Do you know what you have done?" he said in a barely controlled tone.

"Yeah. Asked you to come out drinking tonight." He backed up a few more steps. "Fellow author and all, thought you'd like it."

Confusion replaced anger. "Fellow author?" The tall, slender, elegant man crossed his arms across his chest, neatly avoiding creasing his soft navy blue sweater as his eyes focussed on the shorter man.

"Oh, yes!" Pyro grinned. "Just got back from my ninth book tour."

Jean-Paul relaxed against the door frame. "How awful was it?"

"About as awful as it could be. The fans, the places, the constant travel, the missed flights…Come on. Let's talk about it over a tall frosty beer or two."

* * *

It ended up being six of them together going out to a local bar. Pyro had convinced Kitty and Rogue to come along, as well as Northstar and Kurt.

Dom stared morosely over the crowd. It had all gone far too well up to this point. Xavier hadn't given him any trouble at all when he said he and Py wanted a night out, just waved a hand and told him to have fun. Now Py was drinking heavily, showing off for the girls and Jean-Paul on the dance floor, as Kurt in his image-induced form talked seriously with a young woman along the wall. He was just waiting for it all to come crashing down, though. Py always did after a couple hours.

He sighed. He put the remains of his orange juice down on a small, round table and slowly moved toward the happy, laughing, bright face of St. John. A voice murmured in his ear, "Your friend is very unhappy, no?"

He nearly jumped at the sudden sound, but pulled himself together and turned to face Jean-Paul Beaubier. He seemed larger in person, and his face was kind. He shrugged. "What makes you say that?" he asked, unwilling to betray his friend's secrets.

Jean-Paul spread his hands wide. "Look at him." He pointed to the dance floor, where Pyro was dancing furiously, the same manic smile he'd had since he left still firmly in place. "He is trying too hard."

Dom nodded. "Yeah."

"You are going to help him now, though." His eyes bored into Dom's, his face full of intense concentration.

"If he's drunk enough to let me. Sure." He paused. "Could you … ?" he asked, gesturing for Jean-Paul to get out of his way.

The man bowed and gracefully moved. "I could not let a fellow author destroy himself for no reason."

Dom snorted before he could help it at the idea of St. John being an "author," then coughed to hide it. "Yeah. Well, thanks."

He'd timed it pretty well. St. John was nearly falling over himself, his eyes brightening with unshed tears, by the time he reached the man. Rogue was trying to persuade him to sit down as he protested that he was perfectly all right. He caught her gaze and shook his head. "Hey, Py. Let's get a pitcher and sit down together, okay?"

"Av!" He started to fall just as Rogue moved away, so Dom steadied his friend. "Finally joining the party?" His hysterical, desperate feelings were breaking through his humorous mask, in the clutching hands that held him close and the relieved look at the mention of going and sitting down.

"Yeah. Let's go over here." He led St. John back toward a darker corner of the bar and sat him down firmly. "And now that we're here, let's talk about why you threw this party to begin with."

"Oh, you know. No reason." His thin hands trembled on the table, nervously tapping as he looked around the bar.

"Py. What's wrong?" He tipped his old friend's face up so that his light blue eyes had to fix on his brown ones. "I know something's wrong. Tell me. Was it something about Misty?"

Pyro's face crumpled. His lips trembled, his eyes closed, and suddenly he burst out crying. Dom let go of his face, pulling his hands back, but Py caught them before he could bring them back to his sides.

Wow. He really didn't know what to do. He let the man keep his hands as he sobbed, bent over the table, head nearly touching a drink stain. He cleared his throat. "It … it's okay, St. John. It's okay."

The man's head moved and he muttered something, wetly, into the table as he clutched at Dom's hands. He repeated it again, looking around to see if anyone had noticed that the life of the party had collapsed. "It's okay." Kurt had rejoined the group, Kitty was looking up at him, and Jean-Paul was near them, but was looking over at him and St. John.

"No."

He looked over at Py as the man squeezed his hands, then let them go. "No, what?"

"It's not okay."

He returned his attention fully to Pyro, who was sniffling into his sleeve and staring at him defiantly. He nodded. "All right. What's not okay?"

Pyro twitched a little. "Her. Him. Oh, God, Av … she's with him."

Dom was getting an uneasy feeling about this. "This is about Misty, right?"

Py blinked back some tears, then hit the table with his open right palm. "I … I'm sorry. I just hoped … I always hoped."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's her, mate. It's always been her." A tear started a path down from the corner of his left eye as he talked, a quiver in his voice. "Misty's just beautiful, you know? I had to leave because I thought we couldn't … and now she's with that stranger … I can't take it!"

Dom's eyes wandered aimlessly as he considered this. "So you're in love with Misty and now she's with someone else … this Logan guy?"

Py didn't answer, staring off into space, tears glistening down his cheeks, murmuring, "I'd always hoped … oh, what have I done?"

Dom sighed. He held his friend's hand as Jean-Paul casually made his way over to their table, Rogue did the same, and the others got the car ready. He nearly carried Pyro out and got him back to their room safely, but he still didn't know what to do for his pain. Thankfully, Py passed out on the ride home.

He grinned. Maybe he should try to find a nice girl for Py. It'd serve him right for trying to set him up all these years.


End file.
